


I'm you, remember?

by ImagineYourself



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Self-cest, Size Difference, Time Travel, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineYourself/pseuds/ImagineYourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets hit by a spell and lands himself in Colorado, 1998. His younger self remembers something they put on their bucket list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm you, remember?

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask. I just really enjoy self-cest and Sam is a babe. Little Sam is 16.

“Sam! Oh shit!”

The curse falling from Dean's mouth is the last thing that Sam hears before he's suddenly being pulled backwards, his eyes wide and his arms reaching for where his brother is lunging towards him with a scared gaze. Then everything goes black.

. . .

Sam wakes slowly, someone prodding at his side and saying words to him. “Go away, Dean,” he mumbles, turning over. His jolts up only when he feels cold pavement digging into his cheek instead of the scratchy motel sheets from the cheap place he and his brother had been staying at as they hunted a witch.

“Sir, you can't stay here,” a voice says above him, and Sam turns over to see a police officer looking down at him, her hand resting lightly on her sidearm.

“What?” he asks stupidly. “Where am I?”

The officer sighs a little but there's a smile twitching in the corner of her mouth. “You're in the city park, sir.”

“What city?”

“Durango, Colorado. And before you ask it's October the sixth, nineteen-ninety-eight,” she tells him with a patient sort of amusement. “Come on, son.”

Sam takes her offered hand and gets to his feet, brushing himself off before looking around contemplatively. “Huh,” he mutters.

“You need a ride home or something?” the officer asks kindly.

“Um, no, I think I'll be fine. Thanks.” Sam turns away, looking up the street in the little town, seeing people milling about around him and the occasional car going by. He takes a few steps away from the officer, looking back to wave a little and smile to reassure her. She probably thinks he's just some weird college kid, after all he's only been out with Dean on their hunt for John for a few months so he still looks the part. And the little town around him looks perfect for a little college, which he can actually a sign for just across the street. Sam hums to himself and keeps walking, pulling out his pockets, relieved to find he still has his wallet and about a hundred in cash on him. He figures that his credit cards won't work seven years in the past.

Sam notices a public phone just a few storefronts ahead of him and rushes towards it, only to stop when he has the phone up to his ear, wondering if he can remember what numbers they used to have that long ago. With a deep sigh, he puts the phone back on the hook, turning away and leaning back against the little booth. He looks out over the street, watching a young woman walk her dog on the tree filled campus of the college. He's just about to turn back to the phone and figure out where the nearest motel is when he glimpses a boy ducking into the store next to him.

Gaping, Sam stands still for a moment because that kid looked... looked just like him at sixteen.

Without another thought, Sam follows the boy in, stepping out of the cool breeze and into a little antique shop. The place is absolutely crammed with knick-knacks and junk, all of it covered in dust and hard to see in the dim lighting. Suddenly overwhelmed with nostalgia, Sam almost misses seeing the boy, crouched low to look at something on a bottom shelf over in the corner. Moving towards him, the boy stands and looks up just as Sam is stopping a yard away, an old oak desk between them.

“Uh, hi,” the boy says. Now that Sam is closer, he can see that it really is him, his young face rounder, less stubbly, and his hair only a little shorter than the face Sam has been seeing in the mirror lately.

“Sam?” he called hesitantly.

The younger Sam furrows his brow. “Do I know you?”

“I, um, well...” older Sam falters, waving a hand to try and get his brain functioning again. He remembers this, being in a dusty old antique shop when Dad and Dean left him to go handle a couple of werewolves the next state over. “I'm you,” he ends up blurting, wincing at the nonplussed look his younger self gives him.

“Um, okay?” His eyes rove over Sam's body even as he's starting to edge away slightly. Sam doesn't blame him, he'd freak out, too. Actually it is him freaking out. Wow, this is gonna get confusing fast.

“No, I mean it. I'm Sam Winchester, my brother's name is Dean, our dad's name is John. Our mother Mary died when we were a baby and right now for you Dean and Dad are in New Mexico hunting two werewolves and you're here alone,” Sam tells him quickly before he can get away. Now Little Sam is staring at him with wide eyes, one of his hands behind him a little, fingering the knife that Sam knows he has tucked into his back pocket. “I'm you in seven years. I got hit with a curse when Dean and I were hunting a witch and now I'm here.”

“A witch? Wait, you and Dean? Where was Dad?”

Sam shrugs a little, his eyes glancing away. “Missing. Dean and I are trying to find him.”

They stare at each other for a long moment before the younger one abruptly relaxes and steps around the desk towards him. “I get tall.”

Sam snorts out a laugh, half tinged with relief. “Yeah.”

“Come on, I'll take you back to the motel. Just gotta buy this first.” Little Sam leads him towards the back counter where an older man is reading a book and sets a little box down which looks like it has Celtic runes carved into it. He hands the man a few bills and the guy just nods, smiling a little as both Sams leave.

They make their way through the streets quietly, neither really knowing what to say. They hear a train passing by a few streets over just as they get to the motel and the younger Sam lets them in with his key. The other Sam looks around, remembering staying in this room for a few weeks, resorting to stealing when his food money ran out before Dean and his dad returned for him. More than once he'd wondered if they ever would.

“So...” Little Sam starts. “Seven years? You're what, twenty-three?”

“Oh yeah, I could do basic math when I was sixteen,” the taller of the two replies with a grin, taking off his jacket and sitting on one of the two beds.

“Oh, shut up,” Sam tells him, though he's laughing as he says it, so the heat is lost. “So what's your plan here?”

Big Sam shrugs. “I need a counter-spell. Any chance you've got anything I can look at here?”

“You already know I don't. And Fort Lewis is a liberal arts uni, so we won't have much luck there. I should call Bobby.” The boy sits in one of the chairs at a table in the corner of the room. “That old fart is still around right?” he asks, eyes on his feet.

“Yeah, he'll be kicking for a long time still.”

“Good.” Sam smiles then, standing up and moving towards the door. “I'll go call him, there's a phone at the desk I can use. You stay here and see if you can find something to eat, I'm starving.” He leaves without another word, and the older Sam watches him even as the door closes.

. . .

Sam comes back about twenty minutes later, saying that he needs to call Bobby back in about an hour to see if he has anything. Sam didn't tell him what the spell was for, since that would have been a whole other mess to deal with, and the older Sam is grateful. He'd managed to put together a couple of sandwiches and the two sit at the table on adjacent sides, quietly eating. Finally, the younger one breaks the silence first.

“Do we go to college?”

Big Sam looks at him with surprise, not having expected that question. He supposes he should have, for if they were switched, he'd have asked, too. “Yeah. But I'm not going to tell you more than that. Space-time-continuum and all that.”

The boy nods like he knew that would be the answer. “How'd Dad go missing?”

“Don't know. Dean said he just didn't come back from a hunt one time.”

“So you got back in.”

“Temporarily.”

“Okay.”

They're both done eating by now, and the taller one is sitting back in his chair, taking in the view of his younger self. A lot can change in seven years, especially going from adolescence to adulthood, and Sam looks at the smooth jaw and slight body, trying to remember how they felt.

“Is it weird? Seeing yourself young again?” the younger boy asks, his elbows on the table and his eyes just as curious as his counterpart's on seeing himself.

“Yeah. Is it weird seeing yourself older?”

“Yeah.” Sam laughs quietly. The older Sam is fixated on his mouth, how young even his lips look, and how tantalizing.

“I just wonder... well, never mind,” he mutters, moving his gaze a little lower to where he can see his younger self's collarbone jutting out above his tee shirt.

Little Sam notices and, smirking, says, "I'm you, remember? I know what you're thinking about.”

“What?” the older one huffs, finally looking back into the boy's eyes and starting slightly at the darkened gaze staring back at him.

“I know you've thought about wanting to fuck yourself if you ever had the chance, because I've thought about it too. It's a chance we just can't pass up."

They're both caught for a moment, just looking at each other. Abruptly, Sam loses it, launching himself across the table to kiss the kid, his big hands almost too big on such a little body, but it just feels so good. One hand is encompassing the back of Little Sam's head, the other pulling the boy up to sit on the table, palm hot and heavy on his thigh. The older Sam moans, pushing the younger onto his back and licking a hot trail down his neck, skin smooth and beautiful since he's too young to have stubble yet. Little Sam's hands are buried in the other Sam's long hair, pulling just a little because he knows he likes it.

Big Sam's mouth is moving slowly down, biting as he goes and taking all the gasps and breathless moans he's eliciting in stride. Making quick work of clothes, he soon has the younger Sam naked below him, writhing with his cock hard and leaking over his stomach. Older Sam stoops to press a kiss to it, tonguing at the head and letting his hands slide up the boy's legs. "Turn over," he commands, voice deep and rough with arousal.

Little Sam sits up to grab another kiss before stepping onto the floor and turning. Slowly, the older Sam bends him over the table, lips pressing sweet kisses to his spine, moving down until he gets to his knees, fingers digging into the boy's hips. He shifts his hands, rubbing gently before spreading Sam's cheeks and leaning forward to lick a long stripe from his balls to his hole. There he spends some time, laving away at the puckered entrance and soaking up the better-than-porn sounds falling from the boy's lips against the table. His legs are shaking and he's breathing hard, but the older Sam just grins to himself and slowly licks his way inside, pushing through the ring of muscle and then flicking his tongue on the rim. All the while he's slowly kneading his hands into Little Sam's asscheeks, keeping him wide open.

"Gonna come for me, Sam?" the older one asks, pausing briefly to lap up the saliva that has been leaking from his mouth.

"Yes, God, please!" Little Sam begs, his fists clenched against the table. The older Sam just chuckles, leaning up to stick two fingers in the boy's mouth, watching him as he sucks on them, getting them nice and slick with his spit. When he deems them wet enough, Sam takes his hand back, immediately sliding one finger inside of Little Sam, already wet from the rimming it goes in easily, coming back out just as easy only to be shoved back in. Sam starts up a good rhythm, and the two move in tandem, the older one fucking into him with one, then two fingers, and younger Sam moaning and pushing back with his hips.

"Come on, Sammy, come for me," the older Sam tells him, now back on his feet still with two fingers inside the boy and his dick still trapped in his pants. He sinks low to his younger self's ear and whispers, "I wanna see you come on just my fingers. And then you can suck my cock, see just how big you're gonna get when you're me." The filthy words get him another long moan and he curls his fingers inside the boy, feeling him clench up just as orgasm hits and Little Sam is coming all over himself. Sam works him through it, pulling his fingers out only when his younger self grimaces and tries to pull away.

His breathing is erratic, but the older Sam holds him up by the waist and kisses him, slow and dirty and Sam can taste himself like he's never been able to before. After a long moment, once the older Sam starts trying to relieve some of his own pressure by rocking his hips against his younger counterpart, Little Sam pulls away and smirks. "You mentioned sucking your cock?" And fuck if those words out of that mouth, kiss swollen and gorgeous don't almost make Sam come in his pants like a teenager. He really needs those fucking things off.

Fortunately, Little Sam is ahead of him and is already pulling down the zipper, shoving his pants and his boxers down to his thighs in one go and dropping to his knees. Older Sam is huge and hard and the head of his dick is leaking so much Sam almost worries he'd soaked through his underwear. But the thought jumps right out of his mind when Sam wraps a hand around the base of his cock and licks at the head, bringing it into his mouth to suck on it hard. A whimper falls from Big Sam's lips and he can't help but buck into that hot, wet mouth, searching for something, anything to get him over the edge.

"Fuck!" he moans, staring down at the teenager who seems intent on making this the best damn blowjob older Sam has ever had, even though he knows for a fact that the kid has no experience other than what he's seen in porn. But shit, he must have picked up a few tricks because before long, Sam is tugging at the boy's hair, trying to get him to pull off before he comes. Stubbornly the kid hangs on and when Sam shouts his climax, Little Sam swallows everything that he can before standing to pull the other Sam down into a sloppy kiss that tastes like the best sex Sam has ever had.

"That was... Fuck!" Little Sam eloquently pants when he finally pulls away, still held in older Sam's grasp.

"Yeah," Sam laughs, suddenly spent and tired. They both head towards a bed, falling onto it, the older one still half-clothed.

“Hey, now we can cross something off our bucket list,” the younger Sam mumbles sleepily into his counterpart's chest.

. . .

Later, they get a spell from Bobby, fortunately pretty simple, and gather up all the necessary part. The two share a deep and dirty kiss, ending up rutting against each other before breaking apart so that they can light a match and send the older one back into his regular time. He ends up back where he started, only now the witch is dead and Dean is pacing back and forth, on the phone with a frantic Bobby. Sam adjusts himself in his pants subtly and steps forward to announce his presence, immediately finding himself caught in a bear hug with a cranky old geezer yelling at him over speaker. Sam spares a thought for his younger self, new memories of what had happened now in his head, and smiles.


End file.
